Post by Nerweniel on Oct 7, 2004 13:39:19 GMT -5
A Crying, Talking, Sleeping, Walking, Living Doll
Got myself a crying, talking, sleeping, walking, living doll
Got to do my best to please her, just 'cause she's a living doll
“Minerva, you simply have to tell him! We have watched you for forty years now, and if you don’t make a move very soon, we may just have to… ” Rolanda Hooch dramatically began, words accompanied by rather exaggerated hand gestures. Half-way through her sentence, though, she started to stammer and shook her head.
“My muse has left me! She’s left me for a holiday!”
A simply sigh of Poppy Pomfrey’s accompanied the sound of the Flying Instructor’s spectacularly falling back onto the couch.
“Ro, this isn’t it.”
Rolanda rolled her hawk eyes once more, sending the Mediwitch an almost McGonagall glare. As she crossed her arms, she replied
“Well, Pops, then I suppose you come up with something! We’ve all tried to help…”
She looked at each of the two remaining members of the small company in turn. Serena Sinistra was carefully studying her nail polish, whilst Sylvia Sprout simply shook her head.
“… but we have failed. Sera’s stories about “It is written in the stars!” were clichéd and everything except effective… Sylvia tried her best but managed to almost *poison* them both with that herbal essence she made… I have walked around with a black eye for two weeks. And you, Poppy?”
The Mediwitch sighed, then raised her hands at the rather sharp remarks now coming from all three of her friends.
“Okay, ladies- I will have my try.”
Leaning forward in a conspirator-like manner, she mouthed
“What about… the shock effect?”
~*~
Minerva McGonagall yawned, laying her magazine aside, finally giving up all attempts of reading the newest edition of “Transfiguration Today”- just arrived in the morning. Of course she’d already read half of the articles, as had been her habit since many years. This night, though, she had to admit she had problems concentrating.
It was Valentine ’s Day, and as usual, she’d gotten many well wishes from about every male staff member, but not one real Valentine- not even of the person she had known and loved for the past fifty years.
Albus Dumbledore had, so it seemed, despite all his eccentricity for about the fiftieth time totally ignored the 14th of February. He’d greeted her in exactly the same, friendly- just like he did every morning.
Even his smile had hurt her today.
Leaning her head on the pillow, she closed, but the tearstains on her cheeks were easier wiped away than her sad thoughts, and as she tossed and turned amongst the sheets, a sleepy arm was quickly extended towards the small bottle standing on her bedside table. The light blue liquor inside of it suddenly seemed much more inviting as it had been during the day, as Poppy had discretely yet urgently handed it to her.
“In case sleep doesn’t come very easy tonight, Min. You look worried.”
Minerva had sent her a stern glare at the time, but reluctantly she had accepted the bottle. After all, it had been a very kind gesture of Poppy’s, and it apparently proved to have been a useful gift in the end.
Indeed it was. Minerva’s eyes closed immediately, and all thoughts were wiped away from her weary mind… until…
~*~
She woke up with a start, and a scream almost escaped her lips as she opened her eyes and looked straight into a pair of twinkling yet surprised blue eyes.
“Minerva?”
It was Albus, her sleepy mind registered, and he was holding a big, red, heart-shaped box in his trembling hands. He was wearing his best dress robes, and immediately Minerva realized that this had to be what people called “a nice dream”. Because nice it obviously was- especially since the box was wrapped into a ribbon in McGonagalll tartan colours. A smile graced her lips at this realization, and before she knew it, she had opened her mouth and started to speak
“Albus, well, I just came to tell you that I loved you, really!”
She merrily laughed- like only a dream-Minerva could laugh- at his obvious surprise.
“I really do, I have for fifty years!”
It all happened the way she’d dreamt of it so many times before. He approached her… and all of a sudden…
… Minerva McGonagall got the biggest shock of her life and screamed. She didn’t even yell anymore, or cry out, she simply *screamed*.
As she jumped back in a way that would even surprise the ever-sporty Rolanda Hooch, her jaw dropped, trembling hands searching for the doorknob behind her back. Her green eyes were big with badly concealed shock- and even Albus could see that she was on the edge of crying, though she did everything in her power to hide it.
“AlbusIamsorryIthoughtitwasadreambutIreally…”
His soft hands on hers stopped her rant, though, and as she, back pressed against the now half-opened door, felt his warm breath on hers, she simply shook her head and whispered
“I am so sorry… I thought I was dreaming… but I…”
Two big, crystal tears trickled down her cheeks, and Albus, jaw still dropped, still holding the box he had planned on giving the only Valentine he’d ever had, couldn’t but step closer to her- he had never seen her cry before, and it was a sight which pained him more than he could ever have imagined it would.
Carefully stroking her tears away with his thumb, he shook his head.
“You are not dreaming, Minerva. But do repeat what you just said… because I’m not sure if it is not I who is dreaming.”
Minerva’s confused mind didn’t exactly take in the meaning of that sentence, but she knew what she had to do and with burning cheeks obeyed.
“I love you, Albus. I have for fifty years.”
Minerva never knew what happened to her, since the next moment when she looked up, she found herself drowning over and over again in the deep, blue pools that were- to her great surprise- his eyes, and as his lips met hers, she felt as if being lifted up into the air- and indeed she was, just like a crying, talking- stammering!- sleeping, walking- sleepwalking…- living doll.
Her feet never touched the floor again that night.
And from behind the door, the rinkling sound of a pocketful of sickles being handed over to its new owner accompanied the victorious sound of a
“Take that, Rolanda!”…
Got a roving eye and that is why she satisfies my soul
Got the one and only walking talking, living doll
Got myself a crying, talking, sleeping, walking, living doll
Got to do my best to please her, just 'cause she's a living doll
“Minerva, you simply have to tell him! We have watched you for forty years now, and if you don’t make a move very soon, we may just have to… ” Rolanda Hooch dramatically began, words accompanied by rather exaggerated hand gestures. Half-way through her sentence, though, she started to stammer and shook her head.
“My muse has left me! She’s left me for a holiday!”
A simply sigh of Poppy Pomfrey’s accompanied the sound of the Flying Instructor’s spectacularly falling back onto the couch.
“Ro, this isn’t it.”
Rolanda rolled her hawk eyes once more, sending the Mediwitch an almost McGonagall glare. As she crossed her arms, she replied
“Well, Pops, then I suppose you come up with something! We’ve all tried to help…”
She looked at each of the two remaining members of the small company in turn. Serena Sinistra was carefully studying her nail polish, whilst Sylvia Sprout simply shook her head.
“… but we have failed. Sera’s stories about “It is written in the stars!” were clichéd and everything except effective… Sylvia tried her best but managed to almost *poison* them both with that herbal essence she made… I have walked around with a black eye for two weeks. And you, Poppy?”
The Mediwitch sighed, then raised her hands at the rather sharp remarks now coming from all three of her friends.
“Okay, ladies- I will have my try.”
Leaning forward in a conspirator-like manner, she mouthed
“What about… the shock effect?”
~*~
Minerva McGonagall yawned, laying her magazine aside, finally giving up all attempts of reading the newest edition of “Transfiguration Today”- just arrived in the morning. Of course she’d already read half of the articles, as had been her habit since many years. This night, though, she had to admit she had problems concentrating.
It was Valentine ’s Day, and as usual, she’d gotten many well wishes from about every male staff member, but not one real Valentine- not even of the person she had known and loved for the past fifty years.
Albus Dumbledore had, so it seemed, despite all his eccentricity for about the fiftieth time totally ignored the 14th of February. He’d greeted her in exactly the same, friendly- just like he did every morning.
Even his smile had hurt her today.
Leaning her head on the pillow, she closed, but the tearstains on her cheeks were easier wiped away than her sad thoughts, and as she tossed and turned amongst the sheets, a sleepy arm was quickly extended towards the small bottle standing on her bedside table. The light blue liquor inside of it suddenly seemed much more inviting as it had been during the day, as Poppy had discretely yet urgently handed it to her.
“In case sleep doesn’t come very easy tonight, Min. You look worried.”
Minerva had sent her a stern glare at the time, but reluctantly she had accepted the bottle. After all, it had been a very kind gesture of Poppy’s, and it apparently proved to have been a useful gift in the end.
Indeed it was. Minerva’s eyes closed immediately, and all thoughts were wiped away from her weary mind… until…
~*~
She woke up with a start, and a scream almost escaped her lips as she opened her eyes and looked straight into a pair of twinkling yet surprised blue eyes.
“Minerva?”
It was Albus, her sleepy mind registered, and he was holding a big, red, heart-shaped box in his trembling hands. He was wearing his best dress robes, and immediately Minerva realized that this had to be what people called “a nice dream”. Because nice it obviously was- especially since the box was wrapped into a ribbon in McGonagalll tartan colours. A smile graced her lips at this realization, and before she knew it, she had opened her mouth and started to speak
“Albus, well, I just came to tell you that I loved you, really!”
She merrily laughed- like only a dream-Minerva could laugh- at his obvious surprise.
“I really do, I have for fifty years!”
It all happened the way she’d dreamt of it so many times before. He approached her… and all of a sudden…
… Minerva McGonagall got the biggest shock of her life and screamed. She didn’t even yell anymore, or cry out, she simply *screamed*.
As she jumped back in a way that would even surprise the ever-sporty Rolanda Hooch, her jaw dropped, trembling hands searching for the doorknob behind her back. Her green eyes were big with badly concealed shock- and even Albus could see that she was on the edge of crying, though she did everything in her power to hide it.
“AlbusIamsorryIthoughtitwasadreambutIreally…”
His soft hands on hers stopped her rant, though, and as she, back pressed against the now half-opened door, felt his warm breath on hers, she simply shook her head and whispered
“I am so sorry… I thought I was dreaming… but I…”
Two big, crystal tears trickled down her cheeks, and Albus, jaw still dropped, still holding the box he had planned on giving the only Valentine he’d ever had, couldn’t but step closer to her- he had never seen her cry before, and it was a sight which pained him more than he could ever have imagined it would.
Carefully stroking her tears away with his thumb, he shook his head.
“You are not dreaming, Minerva. But do repeat what you just said… because I’m not sure if it is not I who is dreaming.”
Minerva’s confused mind didn’t exactly take in the meaning of that sentence, but she knew what she had to do and with burning cheeks obeyed.
“I love you, Albus. I have for fifty years.”
Minerva never knew what happened to her, since the next moment when she looked up, she found herself drowning over and over again in the deep, blue pools that were- to her great surprise- his eyes, and as his lips met hers, she felt as if being lifted up into the air- and indeed she was, just like a crying, talking- stammering!- sleeping, walking- sleepwalking…- living doll.
Her feet never touched the floor again that night.
And from behind the door, the rinkling sound of a pocketful of sickles being handed over to its new owner accompanied the victorious sound of a
“Take that, Rolanda!”…
Got a roving eye and that is why she satisfies my soul
Got the one and only walking talking, living doll
Very cute.
